MILFs
by culturegeek76
Summary: Sam and Dean kill time on a drive.


**Title: **MILFs  
**Author:** culturegeek76  
**Rating:** PG-13 For languague, suggestive content  
**Summary:** Sam and Dean kill time on drive.  
**Warning:** Refers to many women from the era of mullet rock – if you were born after 1982 you may need to do some background research. Also, if you are offended by women being reduced to sexual objects, don't come crying to me, I don't think it's ok either. (But it is rather funny.)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not in anyway affiliated with the show, the network, or the boys. Please don't sue. I have nothing.  
**Author's Notes**: Like Dean, I have a love for all things hard rock. I could have gone on and on listing names of video vixens – but many are not mothers yet… may be a second story in there…. Inspired by the FanFic100 Challenge, Number 76 – Who?

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"Ok," Dean said, not taking his eyes from the road. "MILFs?"

"What?"

"MILFs Sammy, mothers you'd like to…"

"I know what a MILF is Dean," Sammy cut him off. "What about them?"

"You know," Dean gave him a grin. "Who would you do?"

"What?"

"Do. Make. Bang. Screw?"

"I'm not having this conversation Dean."

"Ah, come on Sammy," Dean laughed. "I'll tell you."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Sam shook his head. "I don't want to know."

"Well, there's Pamela Anderson."

"Dean…"

"Tawny Kitaen…." Dean licked his lips. "Back when she was still married to…"

"Dean!"

"Same for Shannon Tweed,"

"DEAN!"

"Dude," Dean glanced at his little brother, whose cheeks were turning a soft shade of crimson. "Are you telling me you don't think she was hot?"

"God," Sam sighed exasperated. "No, I, uh…."

"Oh, remember that movie she was in," Dean continued, ignoring his brother's opposition. "What was it called? Indecent…."

"I don't know."

"Well, whatever," Dean shook his head. "She was hot! With two T's!"

"Great," Sam muttered under his breath.

"Mmm, and Shania Twain," Dean bit his lip. "In that red sweater video!"

"Uh-huh."

"The Wilson sisters, back in the day."

"Who?"

"You know, the chicks from Heart."

"Oh." Sam said wearily.

"Before the one got fat," Dean continued. "The other one is still looking pretty good though."

Sam looked out the passenger window, pretending to be absorbed in the scenery.

"Rachel Hunter."

"Is there anyone on that list who is not a rock chick, Dean?"

"Sure, um…." Dean tried to think of a woman that wasn't in a rock band, married to a rock musician, or affiliated with rock somehow.

"Well?"

"Uh, Denise Richards? Man, she looks dirty. I'd love to…."

"Dean."

"What? Oh wait, I forgot – that whole Richie Sambora thing…"

"That's not what I meant."

Dean started to say something, but Sam cut him off, "Enough."

"Come on little bro," Dean smirked. "Don't be shy…"

"I'm not shy…" Sam insisted. "I don't, I just, I, I don't…."

Dean rolled his eyes. Neither said anything for a few minutes.

"Reese."

"What?"

"Reese Witherspoon."

"The girl from Walk the Line?"

"Yeah," Sam sighed.

Dean looked over at his brother. "You think Reese Witherspoon is a MILF?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, you're sick."

"I'm sick?" Sam glared at Dean with a "this had better be good" look. "You don't think she's pretty?"

"Of course," Dean shook his head. "She's pretty, but, she's not a MILF."

"How's that Dean?" Sam huffed. "She's a mother, and I'd like to, to…."

"Fuck her?"

Sam sighed again. "Don't be crude. It's just, well, I wouldn't pass on the opportunity to have…"

"Hot monkey sex with her?"

"Dean!" Sam rolled his eyes. "I'd, I mean, I'd um… have sex with her," he almost whispered.

Dean laughed hard. "Dude!" He shook his head. "You don't have sex with a MILF!"

Sam groaned, wondering how he'd been sucked into this conversation. "No?"

"No!" Dean's tone got serious. "Reese is the kind of girl you marry, she's the type you want to be the mother of your children. Like, like, Jennifer Garner."

"Uh-huh." Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"A MILF has to be someone you want to get feral with."

"Feral?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, wild, crazy" Dean nodded emphatically. "An. i. mal."

"I know what feral means Dean."

"Right." Dean chuckled to himself. "This from a man that classifies a southern debutante as a MILF."

"Fine," Sam slumped down.

"That's just wrong, seriously."

"Whatever," Sam folded his arms.

"Hey, I'm not the one who…"

"Angelina?" Sam offered, surely that'll shut him up, he thought.

"Ah," Dean tilted his head. "Safe bet, but um,"

Sam cleared his throat menacingly.

"But heck, she' is hot. I'd do her." He nodded approvingly.

Silence consumed them again for a few minutes.

"Especially if she's with that Jenny Shimizu chick…'" Dean waggled his eyebrows. "I wouldn't mind being the meat in that sandwich."

"Thanks for that visual," Sam cringed.

"You're welcome." Dean flashed another bright grin.

Sam smiled, relieved that the conversation seemed to be over.

----

"Huh."

"What?" Sam asked absentmindedly.

"Angie, huh?"

Sam sighed audibly. "Yes," he hissed through his teeth.

"I never figured you were into tattooed chicks Sammy…"

Sam punched his brother playfully.

"Ouch!" Dean laughed. "That hurts!"

"I'll hurt something in a minute if you don't shut up," Sam said to himself.

"Whazzat?"

"Nothing Dean, just drive."

"Fine," he turned his attention back to the road.

Thirty minutes later, Sam is awoken from his snooze by the sound of Dean snickering, "Reese Witherspoon…."

FIN


End file.
